11. Lochlan
CHAPTER 11
Lochlan
I’m having such a great time.
Dario’s family is super nice. He was right to warn me that some of them have seriously big personalities, but a lot are more reserved as well, like him. One thing is for sure, and that’s they know how to host. Even though Dario’s dad is cooking a big ass turkey dinner, there are plates of home-made nibbles on every surface, and I’m certainly never left without a drink in hand.
Everyone seems to want to talk to me. They make me feel like I’m a celebrity. Aunts, uncles and cousins all have stories about Dario that they want to share with me. Although it appears like he used to go by Miguel when he was younger or something, as people seem to be using both. Some of them hastily correct themselves, so I don’t ask about it in case it’s a sensitive topic. I always know who they’re talking about, anyway, which is all that really matters. I’m here to be his boyfriend and big him up, so I want to laugh and sigh happily at their tall tales.
It cracks me up when someone thinks they’re going to embarrass him by showing me photos of old Halloween costumes, but all I do is get impressed at how accurate his Starfleet uniform was or excited by the full body make-up from when he was an Avatar alien. One time he made himself an actual Dalek outfit, complete with light-up accessories.
And when I gush about how awesome Dario is—how clever and inventive and funny—whoever I’m talking to blinks in surprise at me.
Then they agree.
It’s so easy to be Dario’s hype man. I tell various people how we’ve not only been training our dogs together, but how Dario helped me and Rocky catch up when I had to miss a session thanks to work, and how Dario’s been researching extra training techniques for us to try. I tell them how he set up the puppy cams for us both and how now we both check in for each other when one of us is at work.
“I’d never look unless Dario asked me to,” I assure his grandma on his mom’s side as I hold out my phone. I want to show her the app to give her an idea of the setup. “And he has to turn the cameras on for them to work in the first place. But if he gets stuck in a meeting, I can take a peek and make sure Queenie is okay. See?”
“Ohh,” she says, raising her eyebrows before beckoning over the man I think is her husband and firing off some rapid Spanish, pointing at the screen. “Very good,” she then tells me with a nod.
“You think Dario could do this for our cats?” the gentleman asks.
I nod vigorously. “I bet he’d be delighted to.”
When we’re settled down to eat at the three tables that have been pushed together and surrounded by a wild mismatch of chairs, I find myself with Dario on one side, and a mischievous looking Aunt Gaby on the other.
One of her crazy strong margaritas was enough, so after I finished the glass she gave me, I had some water then switched to a beer that one of Dario’s uncles had ready and waiting to shove into my hand.
I’ve been so busy talking, and Dario was out in the garden with his mom making sure the dogs don’t have any escape routes, so I haven’t really seen him since we arrived. I can see that he’s also abandoned the margaritas and is drinking red wine. I love that I know that’s his drink of choice. It’s cool to feel close with someone in that way, especially as we didn’t meet all that long ago.
I’m glad he decided to stay. I would have done anything he wanted, but part of me was worried that he wanted to leave so early because he’s hiding from something or afraid. The way he’s relaxing now makes me think that it’s not his family he’s worried about. For a hot minute I was dead certain there was going to be a homophobic asshole or a creepy groper he was trying to avoid.
But that’s not it.
Maybe I’m way off base…but I think what he was concerned about was letting them be nice to him. During dinner, I catch him flinching a couple of times when someone tells him he’s looking good, or they congratulate him on his new job and home and shit.
I, for one, can’t help but beam when he’s getting compliments. I know we haven’t known each other ages, but damn it if I’m not still proud as punch for him. Whatever happened in Phoenix, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that he had to have had a lot of guts to start over in a new place.
Perhaps he thinks that it’s no big deal and he doesn’t deserve their praise. Or that they’re over-exaggerating. But they’re not, so I join in with bigging him up, slinging my arm around him and giving him a good squeeze when I tell whoever’s listening that he’s the best.
And, yeah, maybe my next beer needs to be a water, because at one point I definitely drag him against me where we’re sitting and kiss his temple.
I do that to everyone, so it’s really not a big deal to me. But afterward, Dario blinks at me with those pretty eyes of his like I did something remarkable. Hopefully it was okay. I know that no one’s talking about it out loud cuz they’re being all polite and stuff, but we are trying to leave them with the impression that Dario has himself a big ol’ firefighter taking care of him now, so they can worry less.
Dario grins at me a few seconds after the kiss, though, and leans into my side. I’ve still got my arm around his shoulders, so I give him a squeeze and kiss the top of his hair again like I do with Lili when we’re tipsy.
Dario isn’t Lili, though, that’s for sure. And yet, he feels so right here, like a baby bird tucked under my wing. I try not to snort as I picture myself as a momma bird, pecking anyone with my sharp beak if they dare to come near the nest I’ve made to protect Dario.
I haven’t had so many beers I forget that no one here appears to be a threat. But Dario is certainly haunted by whatever has them fussing over him, and that’s what—or who—I’d like to peck in the face.
Instead, I settle for giving his mom a wink when I catch her staring sweetly at us. I’ve still got my arm around her boy’s back, and out of his sightline I see her place her hand on her heart and sigh wistfully. It’s so cute. I think my mom would really like her. Hell, I think my family and this family would get on like a house on fire, one that I wouldn’t have to worry about putting out.
When the meal is done and my belly feels the way Rocky’s does when he panic eats his food, I insist on helping clear the dishes. That’s the way my momma raised me, and I won’t take no for an answer.
So I end up in the kitchen, loading the dishwasher while most everybody else lounges around in the yard, cranking up the music and playing a noisy game, no doubt in an attempt to stop them all from falling into Thanksgiving food comas.
“I like you,” a confident voice announces from behind me. I turn and see Gaby grinning at me like she knows a secret.
“Why, thank you, ma’am,” I say bashfully. The dishwasher won’t take much more, so I grab a towel and dry my hands before looking more closely at the machine. “Oh, uh, do you know how to turn this on?”
“Sure do!”
Gaby darts over, and in the blink of an eye, she’s fished a tablet out of a small metal tub, programmed a setting, then closed the door of the machine with a solid click. In a couple of seconds, it starts whirring, telling us that it’s begun its cycle.
“Come, sit,” Gaby says, dragging me across to the now empty dining table.
The sounds coming from outside are comforting as Gaby fetches me a fresh beer and sits me down in the end seat. She positions herself at the head of the table, so the corner is between us. Once we’re both settled, she picks up her margarita in one hand, then lays her free one on top of mine.
“You really like Dario, don’t you?” she says. Her voice is warm but there’s something else there. That anxiety that Dario’s been so aware of.
“Yes, I do,” I tell her truthfully. Even if it’s not in a boyfriend way, I do think he’s a blast. “He’s quickly become my favorite person,” I assure her.
She nods. “I can tell. You respect him. You think he’s wonderful, don’t you?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Good,” she says firmly. “Because he is. He’s a little diamond. After what that fucker put him through, he deserves a guy who looks at him the way you do. Like he’s a prince in a goddamned Disney movie.”
I only catch some of her last few words because my brain immediately latched onto two words in particular. “I’m sorry, Gaby. But do you mind if I ask what you mean by ‘that fucker’? Who are you talking about?”
Her expression drops. “Oh, no,” she says, sounding kinda guilty. “I just assumed…I thought you knew. Shit.”
Okay, so that makes me torn. I don’t want to go snooping around in Dario’s life. Lord knows I’ve barged my way into so much of it already. But now I’m the one with worry writhing in his gut like a snake.
“It’s all right if you don’t want to say anything more,” I assure her. “But is it something to do with Phoenix? I get the feeling something bad happened there and he left his whole life behind because of it.”
Her eyes go wide. “That’s exactly what happened,” she hisses and pokes my chest before scooting her chair closer to mine. For a few moments, she just stares at me, as if weighing up what to say next. “If Dario didn’t tell you, it might be because he feels ashamed. But he has nothing to be ashamed of. So…okay, I’m going to give you the CliffsNotes version, not because I want to gossip, but because he deserves to be treated like a fucking king. I think you know that, too. But I want you to understand why as well.”
As far as I’m concerned, Dario deserves that because he’s the best. However, I’m getting the impression that Tia Gaby is about to drop a more specific bombshell on me.
I nod. “I promise I’ll be discreet.”
She bites her glossy lip and takes another sip of her cocktail before speaking again. “Dario dated a guy called Shane in college. They seemed so happy together at the start. Alicia was proud of her boy for spreading his wings, but I could tell that she had this…doubt about Shane. Like a shadow lurking in the corner of your eye.”
I swallow, not liking how ominous that sounds. “Okay,” I prompt her tentatively.
“It wasn’t too bad until they moved in together after graduation,” Gaby continues. “Dario got a job he was really excited about, so to begin with, it made sense that he was coming home less and less. He was busy, you know?”
She crooks her eyebrow in a way that makes me think that it wasn’t work keeping Dario from his family. My stomach sinks. Sure enough, she’s got more to say.
“He wasn’t calling much and only visiting during the holidays.” She waves her hand around to indicate where he was missed during those times. “It’s not a long drive, you know? But the way Dario and Shane acted, you’d think they were in Australia, dios mío.”
She sighs and I squeeze her hand where she’s still holding onto me. This was obviously very hard on Dario’s parents and the rest of his family. But in that moment my heart is breaking, guessing what Dario was probably going through back then and hating it just as much in the present day.
Gaby continues. “Fourth of July last year, so like eighteen months ago, was the breaking point. Julio—that’s Dario’s dad—says he’s had enough so he and Alicia get in the car, saying if Dario won’t come to them, they’ll go to him.” She sniffs and looks at me through her thick lashes. “They surprised him. Luckily, Shane was out, but Dario was very keen to get them to leave before he came back. It didn’t take a genius to see he was scared. That’s when I got involved.”
“Yeah?” I say, leaning in closer, completely engrossed in her awful tale.
She nods. “Alicia learned everything she knows about internet sleuthing from me. When she and Julio confessed how worried they were, I started poking around Dario’s socials and reaching out to friends from college. They all said the same thing.”
I know what’s coming, but my guts are still in knots anyway.
“Nobody had seen Dario or heard from him in months. Some of them years, since even before graduation. They told me enough little throwaway comments about what Shane ‘didn’t allow’ for me to put it together. I found out afterwards I was right and then some. Shane was good, he did it slowly, always framing everything as doing what was best for Dario. But he was picking out his clothes, not letting him wear anything he thought was too provocative. He convinced Dario that all his friends were jealous and controlling when?—”
“That’s actually what he was,” I cry in horror.
“Bingo,” Gaby says. “He convinced Dario that we—his family—were trying to break them up. Shane persuaded Dario to start putting his salary into Shane’s bank account. Shane started giving Dario an allowance , then bitched when Dario tried to explain it wasn’t enough for basic groceries.”
There are tears in her eyes now, but she blinks them back furiously. I’ve long put my beer down, sick to my stomach with what I’m hearing.
“This took ages for Dario to confess to us,” she says, her voice thick with emotion. “So I’m not surprised he hasn’t blurted it out to you or anything. But, Lochlan, you need to understand, okay? This pathetic little fucker, he got in our sweet boy’s head. He convinced Dario that he couldn’t do anything on his own. That all his ideas were embarrassing and laughable. That…that he was so useless, no one else would ever love him. He twisted Dario’s thoughts so much, he really believed that he should be grateful for Shane’s ‘love.’”
I can hear the air quotes in her anguished tone. I scrub my free hand down my face. “Fuck,” I say heavily.
I’ve done training on how to recognize domestic abuse on the job. It’s devastating to see how often it rears its ugly head, sometimes where you’d least expect it. These predators are so damn smart about hiding it. There isn’t a single part of me that blames Dario for finding himself in that situation. But I already hate this Shane guy more than is probably reasonable considering we’ve never met.
For his sake, I hope we never do.
“How did Dario escape?” I ask in hushed tones.
I’d hate for him to think we were talking about him behind his back, but I gotta know. Sure, I thought he was shy when we first met, but in a cute, nerdy way. I had no idea he’s been through so much trauma, and I feel guilty for it. I should have seen or guessed or somehow known…
Not that it would change the past in any way. But still, there’s a part of my big, dumb caveman brain that’s convinced I should have done something different. Well, I can certainly do whatever I can to help Dario now, that’s for damn sure.
Gaby looks like she’s torn between letting the shimmering tears collecting on her lashes fall and screaming the house down in rage. Both would probably be quite cathartic.
“Shane hit Dario,” she whispers.
My blood runs cold and a buzzing rings in my ears. That big dumb caveman brain of mine is seriously unhappy. The urge to track down Dario right that second and wrap him protectively in my arms is almost overwhelming. But I need to know how this story ends before I can do anything.
“Of course,” Gaby says with a sneer, “Shane was all ‘It was an accident! I’ll never do it again! I love you, baby!’ But thank God Dario still had enough fight in him to realize the line had finally been crossed. He knew his family loved him no matter what, and he had to get out.”
“So they broke up?” I say with relief.
Sadly, Gaby shakes her head. “It was like Dario had a blindfold lifted from his eyes. He could suddenly see that he had to leave, but he knew that Shane wouldn’t let him leave. Our boy is so fucking smart, though.” Her expression is one of fierce pride, and I agree with her completely. “He acted like everything was fine, but he knew that Shane was watching him all the time. Checking his phone and computer and all that. That’s when fate stepped in, and he got a crazy bonus from work as well as a pay rise. He was able to convince them to send the extra money to a new bank account he opened, so Shane never saw it. That HR lady was like a dragon.” Gaby shakes her head in admiration. “She understood completely when Dario explained the situation. She had so many genius ideas about how to help him escape safely and make sure Shane couldn’t find him again.”
“And he did escape?” I ask, even though I’ve known him for a few weeks now, so of course he did. But I don’t know if I’ve ever felt like this before. So furious and devastated and anxious all at once.
Holy shit. No wonder his family is so protective.
Gaby nods and takes a deep breath. “Shane went on a work trip. Once we’d confirmed he was on the plane, me, Alicia, Julio, and Julio’s brothers were at Dario’s place within the hour, packing him up and getting him the hell out of there. Shane had visited here a lot.” She indicates Dario’s folks’ lovely home. “So we moved him in with me to begin with. He didn’t have much stuff as he’d left everything Shane had ever bought for him or made him buy, so he was easy to hide. Then Dario blocked his number, closed all his socials down, and waited for Shane to come home and find the note he’d left saying it was over and not to try and find him.”
Despite all the horror I’m feeling right now, I’m also proud, so proud. I knew my dude was brave AF, no matter what he’s said to me. He’s got a backbone that I saw right from the start.
“And that’s when he changed his name?” I ask. Gaby looks at me in alarm, but I wave my hand. “I’m just putting two and two together. Some of his relatives I’ve been talking to this afternoon called him Miguel.”
She slumps and sighs. “Yeah, you’ve got it. You’re the first person they’ve met from his new life, so I don’t think they really get how important it is for him that he maintains this new identity. I told him he should really change his surname as well and get it all legalized, but he was furious at the idea of Shane taking his connection to his family away like that. So Dario is only a change, socially. But seeing as he never posts on anything like Instagram anymore, I guess it doesn’t matter. His work knows not to ever publish his name or picture as well.”
“Wow,” I say, exhaling and rubbing my forehead. “Did Shane ever come looking for him?”
“Once,” Gaby says gravely. “Here. But Alicia made it very clear that Dario didn’t want to see him, and if he ever came around again, he’d be violating the restraining order they had put out on him.”
“No way,” I say in awe. I knew I liked his mom. “Is there really a restraining order?”
“You bet your ass there is,” Gaby says with a scoff before taking a big gulp of margarita and shaking herself all over, like she’s trying to rid herself of any trace of that scumbag. “It covers this house and mine, but not Dario’s new place as including there would mean informing Shane of the address, which nobody wants. But Dario is clever. I doubt Shane will ever find him, so Shane won’t be popping over for a visit any time soon. Unlike me! I’m dying to see it, but he won’t let us help furnish it! Can you talk to him, please?”
And just like that, the conversation shifts. I explain to her that Dario really wants to stand on his own two feet by picking out and buying all that stuff himself, and she does seem to listen to me.
Probably because I now understand on a whole new level what he’s been through and want to support him with my whole chest. That’s probably coming across in everything I’m saying to her. By the way she’s smiling at me, I think she gets it.
Dario is a warrior. He survived a terrible situation where he was made to feel worthless and helpless, but he’s neither of those things. Now his need to be independent makes total sense to me.
I might not be his boyfriend, but I think I might be his best friend. And I’m going to work my ass off to show him he’s supported and brilliant and can furnish his own home with his own money in his own style, no matter how long it takes.
When I’m done hype-manning the shit out of my new best bro, he’s not even going to remember that asshole Shane’s name.